I couldn’t conclude my series on funding in the arts without addressing crowdfunding. What does an artist do when their work is not yet commercially viable? When government funding is out of reach? When grants are too time consuming, competitive or unavailable? When the day job is just not bringing in enough cash?

Start a crowdfunding campaign, naturally. What could be more simple than (cue the sarcasm) asking your closest friends, family members, and random strangers for money?

For Candy Ego, Smith and her creative partner Kim Anh Schreiber chose Kickstarter, probably the best known of the rewards-based crowdfunding platforms (the other type is equity-based, meaning backers get shares in the project they give money to). According to the site crowdsourcing.org, 1,250 funding platforms were surveyed worldwide for the 2015 Crowdfunding Industry Report. That’s a lot of ways to ask people for money!

I could write an entire book on the history of crowdfunding (for example, philosopher Auguste Compte used a form of crowdfunding in 1850 to continue his work). For the purpose of this column though, I’ll try to summarize: Most artists use rewards-based platforms for their projects because equity is messy. Of the rewards-based platforms, Kickstarter is popular but risky, because it has an “all or nothing” system that only enables the fundraiser to collect if the goal is met in time. Other platforms such as GoFundMe and IndieGoGo do not use the all-or-nothing model.

Smith says she went with Kickstarter because the all-or-nothing deadline was motivating. She’s also adjunct faculty member at UCSD, so I was curious as to why, as part of a prestigious university, she chose to go the route of crowdfunding to begin with.

“At the end of the day a lot of these institutional routes are looking for certain kinds of stories, and if you’re not making one of those stories, then you have to get really creative with how you’re going to fund it,” she explains. She also talks about how, as an adjunct, she gets no funding for research. For the production, Smith and Schreiber utilized students with access to equipment as crew, in addition to a whole slew of volunteers. The series is also highly subversive and critical of institutions such as UCSD, so asking for funding from the university would be a bit of a conflict of interest.

“It’s like getting funding from Hollywood or something that’s more mainstream. In the end, are you really going to have the power to create what you wanted to create?” Smith asks.

It’s a decent question. And one that Ramel J. Wallace has also been asking. Wallace, also known by his hip hop name of Real J Wallace, has been using a GoFundMe campaign called “The Last Black Man in Barrio Logan” for the last few months to raise money to sustain his recording studio and his experimental work blending sound art, hip-hop and storytelling. His work is not exactly of a genre that readily gets funding, especially in San Diego.

“I feel like the GoFundMe gave me a core audience for people who support me. I know they care for what I’m doing and that they see the purpose,” he says. “Somebody told me to make a list of all the people that fuck with you, and make a list of the all the people who kind of mess with you. And the people that fuck with you, no matter what you do, they’re going to be down, kind of like a mom.”

Wallace brings up an interesting point: Crowdfunding is a way to not only raise money, but to identify your supporters for the long haul. So even if someone doesn’t raise a ton of cash, they’ve at least put the word out about what they’re doing and pinpointed those who care.

“The skills required to run a successful campaign are nearly the same as what’s required to run any business,” says Molly Neuman, Kickstarter’s head of music and a Riot Grrrl pioneer. “You have to have a story, know how to convey it effectively and efficiently.”

Crowdfunding, just like any other form of raising capital to back one’s dreams, is a mixed bag. Even if goals are met, there are fees to pay (Kickstarter charges five percent in addition to payment processing fees). But what shines through to me from talking to both of these artists is the idea of creative problem solving and community, both local and global. Having conversations about how we all raise our money and finding ways to get our work out there. What it really takes is advocating for each other, especially for those who are struggling financially.

Maybe it’s time for a new platform? Or more cooperation between efforts? All I know for certain is San Diego is hungry, and it’s time to seriously create a vision for how to feed ourselves creatively.